The Final Catastrophe
by letitbe54
Summary: Carlisle discovers a way to impregnate vampire women, and uses it on his willing wife, Esme. Little do they know the consequences of tampering with nature are much higher than they once suspected. Esme/Carlisle. Angst and Love. Oneshot.


**The Final Catastrophe**

**Vampire**

**Carlisle/Esme pairing**

**Angst/Drama/Romance**

**Oneshot**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Twilight Saga**

**Summary: Carlisle discovers a way to impregnate vampire women, and uses it on his willing wife, Esme. Little do they know the consequences of tampering with nature are much higher than they once suspected.**

**This is post BD, without Nessie or the Pack.**

**And, a huge thanks to my amazing beta Mikarin Aoi who has been truly incredible these past few weeks. Thanks so much for helping me out! I don't know what I'd do without you! **

* * *

_Carlisle's POV_

I never wanted her to take the formula. I knew from the start it was a bad idea. I shouldn't have let her, but who was I to tell her, the woman who had wanted a child of her own for almost an entire century, no? It wasn't my place to say such things, and yet, I still felt the guilt eating at my soul, because surely someone as perfect as Esme couldn't be at fault in a situation like this. Surely it was my fault.

~0o~0~o0~

"Let me take it, Carlisle," Esme had encouraged meekly. I didn't want to do it, I really didn't, but I couldn't help but give her what she wanted. And my own pride, my own selfish pride, wanted to know if the syrup would even work.

Emmett wouldn't allow Rosalie to try it first, and neither Alice nor Bella even wanted a child so that left Esme to be the first experiment. I knew it was risky, but my mind was clouded with excitement over such a huge discovery that I pushed all other thoughts aside. At that moment, I decided that caution, for once, could wait. Esme and I were going to have a child, a real child brought forth from my wife's womb. It was what we had always wanted.

It was difficult and painful for Esme to digest the syrup I had so carefully and meticulously crafted. It had to be melted down and mixed with blood and then drank, or else it would be rejected by the body. We tried it with animal blood, but Esme couldn't keep it down so we tried it with human blood. Although it literally burned her throat and caused sores to appear on her lips and mouth, my wife was able to digest the syrup. We were sure to consummate the ingestion of the potion soon after.

The symptoms of pregnancy were quick to show on Esme. Too quick. A part of me had hoped that the child developing inside my wife would be human, or somewhat human, but after a week of Esme's speedy pregnancy, I knew that I would only be let down if I continued with that hope. The thing inside my wife was anything but human.

It was idiotic to think that the baby would develop like a normal human fetus. Its parents were two centuries-old vampires. In such a relationship, what could possibly result into something normal? My excitement over the pregnancy waned as Esme became further and further ill. Her body was not developing with the fetus; instead, it was trying to dispel it. She was dying.

Rosalie sat by her bedside day in and day out, but there was nothing any of us could do. I wanted to take that thing out of her, but she wouldn't let me. We fought for endless hours, but I could never get her to give up the thing growing inside her. The bond she had with it had become too strong for any one of us to break.

Rose was on Esme's side, of course, as was Emmett. Alice, Jasper, Edward and Bella were strongly against the birth of the baby, and as the days flew by, I became as well. I couldn't bear to sit around and watch as my precious Esme withered away all because of some ridiculous formula I had created. She was withering away beneath a few bed sheets because of what I did.

Her body rejected animal blood as a whole, forcing the family to find alternate sources of human blood. She needed gallons of nourishment a day, so supplying the blood from the hospital was out of the question. I refused to kill anyone for the blood, for the baby that I didn't even want anymore, but Rosalie didn't. She wanted the baby, and so, I did nothing to stop her. I had no idea how many people she killed but it was enough to make headlines in the town's newspaper.

We were forced to move from the sleepy Nevada town as Esme's need for blood became more and more potent. We had to go and quickly.

I had been lying beside my beloved in our bedroom, full boxes brimming with clothes and bedding surrounding us, as if to mock our impending departure. Esme was gripping her swollen stomach, her teeth clenched in pain as the baby moved within her.

"It's only been a few weeks since we found out about her, and I'm already huge. I wish we knew more about her, so that somehow we could help her. And help me." Esme whimpered and ran a finger over one of the massive sores on the side of her stomach. She gasped at the pain and my mouth twitched, turning into a scowl.

Was she only noticing what this monster was doing to her _now_? Had she not seen the progress it had made? The baby was starving her completely, as well as damaging her body beyond repair. Her ribs were cracked and broken, her body was covered in festering sores from the lack of blood, and her bones were becoming brittle and fragile. Her skin had dulled and her throat was beginning to develop dry patches because of an absence of venom. Cracks had begun to form in her flesh as her body was forced to accommodate the massive changes it was facing. Never had she looked closer to the walking dead.

She leaned back on the headboard, placing a delicate hand on top of her bloated stomach. She winced as the baby kicked, then after a long pause, she laughed darkly. I remembered trembling at the sound. It was so unlike her, as if someone else, a foreign presence, had inhibited her. I was beginning to think it had.

"You must think I'm so stupid. No, I know you think I'm stupid, and maybe I am, but no matter what, this baby will be born. It might be a complete freak, a blood-drinking demon, but it will be born. I'm not going to let it die." She always was so determined. I admired that quality in her. At least she could stand for something in life, even if it was the thing that was killing her.

I ran a tender hand across her cheek, smiling sadly. She looked at me, her eyes the darkest black I had ever seen. Even the light that would usually reflect off the onyx colored orbs was absent. They reminded me of coal.

"You'll die."

The words slipped off my tongue before I could stop them, and as Esme's smile faded to a look of disgust, my heavy heart fell to the bottom of my stomach.

~0o~0~o0~

"It's too late now, you know. Even if she wanted the thing out, you couldn't get it out. It already has thoughts; I heard them earlier this morning. It wants to get out, and I don't think it really cares if it hurts Esme in the process."

I stood there silently as Edward explained to me what would happen. It wasn't news to me anyway. I already knew it was killing her, hadn't I known that from the beginning? Why was he telling me this?

"I'm telling you this, Carlisle, so you'll do something, anything! You've become as much of a zombie as she has! Talk to her, sit with her, and enjoy your last moments together before she goes. She misses you, you know. She misses everything about you, but you're too stupid to realize that." Edward fumed and I sat, my back facing him, my hands cradling my aching skull. I was so sick and tired of the screaming and yelling. I just wanted it to be over.

"Please leave me alone, Edward, I need time to think," I said dismissively, waving him off.

He hissed and shook his head. "You don't have _time_. She's almost ready to burst, and when she does, that's it. Don't you want to see her, spend more _time_ with _her_, do _something_ for _her_?"

"You know I've already done enough. I moved her back to the place where she was born on her request. I've done everything she has asked of me."

A sigh left Edward's lips as he turned to leave.

~0o~0~o0~

"She wants to see you," Rosalie said softly. She grabbed my hand and guided me upstairs to the bedroom I shared with Esme. My wife's bloated figure was reclined on our bed, a book perched atop her stomach. Her face lit with joy as she saw me walk in. She made a move to get up but Rosalie quickly stopped her, placing a firm but gentle hand on one of her legs. She glanced at her daughter with a hint of distaste. Rosalie managed to a fake a smile.

"Come here, my love," Esme pleaded. She placed her book down and wrapped two arms around me, pulling me closer to her. Her massive middle caused a distinct rift between us, and I couldn't help but compare that physical rift to the one that had arisen between us mentally and emotionally. We weren't the strong couple we once were. We were broken.

"I've missed you." Her breath was a whisper against my ear. She laughed awkwardly at my silence. "Why haven't you come to visit me? It seems the only person who cares anymore is Rose."

I couldn't help but laugh at that. I knew for a fact that my eldest daughter didn't care about my wife's safety. She cared about the baby's and that was that. I knew she couldn't help it. Even though Esme was dying, Rosalie was still envious of the monster growing in my wife's womb. It was disgusting, really.

"I care about you, Esme."

She looked up at me, slight surprise written across her features. Whether that surprise stemmed from the fact that I cared, or that I had finally spoken, I would never know.

"I know you do; I just wished you would care about her too."

Esme carefully picked up my hand and placed it on her stomach. A smile crept onto her lips and she stared at me with hopeful eyes. "She's going to be beautiful," she said quietly. "More beautiful than anything."

I yanked my hand away from her as if the skin had burned me, and in a way, it had. Across the surface of my wife's belly was a series of complex cracks and open wounds, leaking a pink colored mixture of blood and venom, or what was left of it in her body. The venom burned everything it touched, including her and me.

I didn't answer, how could I? What would I say? So I just sat there, staring at the woman I had loved for so long, rot away beneath a pool of venom.

~0o~0~o0~

Two days before the delivery, the only sounds echoing through the house were screams made from my beloved. Nasty, guttural, painful screams that made me want to scream too, but not out of pain but out of sadness. I hated seeing her like this and, even more, I hated thinking about what life would be like _after_. What would have to change after all was done and my wife was buried? Would the child live, and better yet, would it even be a child or some devil-horned thing from hell?

Visions of a better life raced through my head. I remembered what I had thought would come out of the complex syrup I had invented. A new and brighter life filled with happiness and fulfillment. Esme, a ripe mother-to-be, a healthy complexion adorning her face as she held two other children, children we had created together, that was what I had in mind. That was my vision, not this. I never wanted this. If I could go back and change everything, I would, but it would never be that way.

"We should do something," Emmett muttered hoarsely. His wife shook her head and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"There's nothing we can do but wait it out. The baby is on her way, it's just a matter of time."

Everyone else had gone; the sound of their mother dying under a monster fetus too much to take. I wished I could leave as well, but I must be here in her last moments. She's my wife and I wouldn't leave her, even now. I made her this way anyway.

"We should do the birth down here, on the dining room table. It's sturdy and it'll be easier to get the baby out without her being injured." Rosalie looked at me for approval. I nodded slowly.

"Whatever you think is best," I answered. My tone sounded dead, but I couldn't force myself to make it sounded any cheerier.

"I bought some stuff for the baby when I was out yesterday. The nursery will be right across from your room, so she won't be too far from you. I got some clothes and a few bottles and formula just in case…"

She didn't want to say it but I could.

"Just in case it's human."

~0o~0~o0~

"Get her out, Carlisle!" Esme yelled sharply as she fidgeted on the table. Her legs reminded me of pieces of seaweed, winding around themselves in a flurry as jolts of pain echoed from her womb. She was screaming, and I could hear it, but there was nothing I could do. My hands felt numb.

"She's ready, Carlisle, you need to help her. She can't do this alone." Rosalie's eyes bore into mine. Her grip on Esme's hand tightened as another round of painful contractions rolled over my wife. Emmett looked at me with a worried face, Esme's grip on his hand equally as tight as the grip on his wife's. I could tell he was uncomfortable in the situation, and I almost asked him to leave, but thought better of it. If he wanted to be a part of Esme's last moments, who was I to say no?

Everything happened in such a whirlwind that I could barely even keep track. One minute, my wife was lying there, overly pregnant in incredible agony and the next, her stomach is ripped open like a torn seam, and there, in between splintered ribs and pools of blood lies a pale white baby boy. Esme screamed louder than I had ever heard her scream and Rosalie grabbed the baby who bit her sharply on the arm.

Rosalie cried out but held onto the baby tightly as Emmett helped swaddle the little thing. I quickly ordered them out of the room. I didn't want to see the boy right now. Not after what he had done.

It was like a scene out of a horror movie, but much more real. So terribly real were Esme's screams as she begged me to help her, to ease the pain, and I tried, I really did, but was there really anything I could do?

"Please, please, please, Carlisle, do something!"

She was losing too much blood and venom where she already had none. A vampire couldn't survive without their vital supply of venom and blood. She was dying and there was nothing I could do. Nothing.

"I love you, Carlisle. I love you more than anyone and I always will. Thank you for the life you gave me."

Her eyes fluttered shut and her breathing slowed. My stomach turned as I started shaking her lifeless form.

"Please come back to me, Esme. This isn't the end, please come back. I need you, I need you so badly. Please, baby, please." My hands gripped her arms, shaking them relentlessly, which only increased her body's eventual collapse. The beginning of a sob pulled at my chest, echoing through my body.

_This can't be it. This can't be the end._

I spat at her wounds, trying to seal them, but they were too big. I tried to pump blood back into her system, but there wasn't enough to sustain her. Her body was falling apart as the substance that had once held her together for decades faded from her. I peppered her skin with feather light kisses as she died. I wanted her to be in peace through her last few moments. She deserved that much.

"I love you, I love you, I love you," I chanted softly while holding her hand. For some reason, I couldn't let go. I felt that if I did let go, I would be forgetting her. I would really have to move on and I didn't want to do that. I didn't want to have to move on and lead a life without her. I didn't want to have to see our child.

~0o~0~o0~

Rosalie and Emmett came in a few hours later to say goodbye to Esme's lifeless body before we were forced to officially bury it. By the time we got her body out far enough and a hole dug deep enough, she was nothing more than a pile of human-like pieces. There was no possible way to piece her back together, or breathe life into her again. She was as dead as she would ever be.

It was midmorning by the time we were finished. Rosalie cried, of course. She had always been close to Esme. Emmett tried desperately to look strong, but I could tell he was on the brink. I didn't want to cry in front of them and risk worrying them at such a delicate time. I didn't want them to see me hurt.

The baby Esme had been so desperate to keep alive died two hours after its birth. Its body wasn't meant to live without a constant source of blood, so once it was out of the womb, it starved to death. He looked just like me aside from the red eyes. We decided to bury him beside his mother who loved him so dearly. Rosalie said it was the least we could do. I said it was the most.

I didn't love the child, not like Esme did, but it was hard for me to bury my own flesh and blood, even if it was a monster. As Rosalie lowered him into the grave, his eyes closed, his face surrounded by blankets; I couldn't hate him or blame him for what he had done to his mother. It wasn't his fault. He couldn't help being born; he couldn't help what he was. No one could.

Rosalie ended up donating the things she had bought for the baby. I didn't want to see them, and neither did she. If I didn't know better, I would have said she was saddened more by the baby's death than Esme's. She seemed to cry harder in front of the child's tomb than my wife's. Either way, I didn't really care, Esme was dead and so was the baby. It didn't matter who Rosalie mourned for more.

The rest of the family came back after a few weeks, and although they tried to heal and nurse my wounds, I still felt raw at the end of every day. I still felt the pain of her absence during every sunset and sunrise.

Everything seemed to remind me of her.

A flower, a painting, a book, something as simple as an article of clothing could cause me to fall apart at the seams. But every day, I was also moving forward. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, I knew that ugly truth, but there were better times to be had in the future. My life felt ruined, but I knew from experience that not everything had collapsed. Hope could be found everywhere.

Whenever I came home, there were times when I would still wonder, for just a second, where my love was, and sometimes I would even call for her and expect a reply back. Sometimes I would look at the calendar and realize that our anniversary was coming up and I would start to plan something or buy something. Sometimes, it was like she had never left. Sometimes, those gruesome, awful memories of her death would be forgotten. It only ever lasted a second or less, but those seconds were made of perfection. They were a reminder of my love, and more than anything, I wanted to hold onto them. I didn't want to forget her presence and go about my day as if she had never existed. I didn't want anyone to forget what it felt like to know such a wonderful, amazing and loving person.

They moved on, my family did. They didn't understand what it felt like to lose a mate, and although I wanted to be mad at them for forgetting her, I couldn't force myself. They were all I had left, along with the memory of my wife. That was all I had.

I found the letter a few months after her death. She must have written it a little before the birth; for she knew she was dying. It was written hastily but I could still see the precision she had placed in each letter. Her scent hung heavily to the paper, causing a sad smile to drift across my lips. It smelled of violets, her favorite flower.

I carefully read it aloud, as if to make each word more final. If she was listening, I wanted her to hear me.

I read it aloud a few times, tasting each word, making sure it was all real. Her words were wonderfully simple, but at the same time, drastically complex. My brain wanted to understand her mysteries held within each character but it couldn't.

Finally, after an hour of reading through it over and over, I set it down on my desk. I left for work later that day, thinking about the letter as I did my daily business at the hospital.

I could see it in my mind, a perfect picture laid out before me on paper.

_Dear Carlisle,_

_I have a feeling this might be the end for me, and although our life together might seem short in comparison to other immortals, for me, it was perfect. If I could change anything, I wouldn't. If you're reading this, I'm already gone, and that's okay. Everyone has to go sometime, even if that time might seem too soon. I think I'm ready for what lies next, and even though you won't be there next to me, holding my hand, I know that someday, you will join me in heaven, along with our daughter._

_Please take care of her, Carlisle. It doesn't matter what she is or what she will become, she's still our daughter and you need to love her as such. She needs you now that I'm gone. She needs a father to guide her through her life. Her life isn't going to be easy, but you can help ease her burden._

_I want you to know I don't regret taking that formula. I will always regret leaving you so quickly, but only because I don't, and never will want you to feel the pain of losing a mate. The future will be hard for you, but I need you to be strong. Not only for you, but for the family we built together. They need you now more than ever. Please don't ignore them. They love you and only want you to be happy, as do I._

_Always remember our love, but don't be afraid to move forward. You still have life in you, Carlisle Cullen, don't waste it._

_I will always love you, before death and beyond it._

_Your wife, mate, lover, and most importantly, friend,_

_Esme_

~0o~0~o0~

It took time to find pleasure in life again, but I did. After a few years, we left Columbus, but I always came back to say hello to my love on her birthday every year. She deserved that from me, at least.

Her memory haunted me every day, but not in a saddening or negative way. She was pushing me forward, allowing me to go on without her in my life. I missed her every single day, and although I'll never love again like I loved Esme, I would still enjoy life though I knew it would never be the same. The sun would never be as bright, the moon never as full, but life would go on. I knew that's what Esme would want.

I'd always have regret in my heart for what I did to my wife, but looking back, there was no way to know what would happen. I was only trying to help, and although the child Esme brought into this world died along with its mother, I thought, as insane as it might sound, that for that short amount of time while my wife was carrying our child, she was fulfilled. She got what she always wanted, at a price of course, but she bore a child that was a mix between her and me. She didn't want to die, who does, but her death was peaceful, for she knew she had done all she could do. She had loved, she had lost, and she had gained an entire family in a century. She lived life to the fullest and loved what God gave her, which, at the end of the day, was all that mattered.

I'll always love my Esme, and one day, I'll see her again and she'll welcome me into her arms as she had done so many times before. I would wait patiently until that day, the day I am reunited with my love and with the other half of my soul.

~0o~0~o0~


End file.
